


Reintroductions

by innerslytherin



Series: The Fifth Year [28]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-07-21
Updated: 2010-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 12:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerslytherin/pseuds/innerslytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave meets the Ambassador while Aaron and Spencer actually take a vacation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reintroductions

**Author's Note:**

> Information on Tybee Island is a mixture of my own knowledge of the island and Wikipedia facts.  I love Tybee with a passion that borders on obsession.  Also, [](http://smacky30.livejournal.com/profile)[**smacky30**](http://smacky30.livejournal.com/), if you're reading this, you should totally go there. ;)

**Further Notes:** Part of this installment was inspired by a prompt from my lovely beta [](http://resolucidity.livejournal.com/profile)[**resolucidity**](http://resolucidity.livejournal.com/).

"Did you know that Tybee Island is the easternmost point in the state of Georgia?"  Spencer tapped his fingers against his armrest.  Aaron was glad they'd paid extra for business class, considering the way Spencer's legs were folded up even with the extra legroom.  "Tybee is the Euchee Native American word for 'salt', and the island was frequented by pirates under Spanish rule."

Aaron glanced over and saw Spencer was chewing his lower lip.  They would be landing in Savannah in a matter of minutes, and obviously the idea of meeting Sean again, this time as Aaron's lover, had Spencer in knots.

"And George S. Marshall was once the commander at Fort Screven, which was first commissioned in 1899," Spencer continued.  "The fort was decommissioned in 1947 but because of a nearby Air Force base, a nuclear bomb was jettisoned near Tybee Island in 1958.  They've never actually found the bomb, which reputedly has no nuclear capsule."

Aaron folded his fingers around Spencer's.  "Relax," he murmured.  "Sean likes you.  It's going to be fine."

Spencer drew in a long, slow breath and glanced over at him.  "Sean liked me all right when I was the nerd who worked for his brother.  I'm not sure that'll extend to being your boyfriend."

Aaron shook his head.  "When I reminded him of who you are, he called you 'the pretty guy'," he said, smiling faintly.  "And he remembers that you're the person who saved my life from Philip Dowd."

Spencer's lips twisted in a familiar, self-deprecating expression.

"And he knows you're the man I love," Aaron murmured, leaning closer.  "He knows you make me happy.  It'll be fine."

Spencer drew in a long breath.  "Did you know the Tybee Island lighthouse was first built in 1736?"

Aaron laughed softly and tightened his fingers on Spencer's.

***

Dave had met Emily's mother once, several years earlier, at a fund-raising event for American veterans.  It was before Dave knew Emily, so he hadn't any reason to pay much attention to the ambassador seated next to him, beyond the casual polite conversation made over dinner.

Following Emily's directions, he parked the Bentley in front of a grand-looking Tudor Revival.  The front entrance was surrounded by ivy, the hedges well-trimmed.  It was subtly different somehow from Dave's house, more established, quietly important in its place.  It occurred to Dave that he'd been less intimidated by Elizabeth Prentiss as simply the former Ambassador to the Soviet Union than as his fiancee's mother.

"Dave?"  Emily was watching him, her gaze steady.  He shook his head, but she'd become better at reading him than anyone except maybe Aaron Hotchner.  A moment later slender fingers were curling coolly around his.  He glanced back at her and she smiled.  "It'll be all right."

He grimaced.  "Easy for you to say.  When it comes right down to it, I'm _nouveau riche_ compared to your family.  You're marrying down, you know that, right?"

The laughter that bubbled out of her was almost worth his ridiculous attack of insecurity in the face of her family's old money.  Almost.  But Dave wasn't a humble man, whatever his other virtues, and he had a hard time acknowledging his own inadequacies in such a situation.  Feeling outclassed based on merit was one thing; he knew he was a flawed individual.  Feeling outclassed because he was a second-generation Italian-American who had worked for his money...  That just made him angry, angry and ashamed of himself, because it felt like a betrayal to his parents.

"David," Emily murmured, tugging on his hand.  "My mother will like you."  She leaned over and kissed him softly.  "Especially once she learns that not only are we getting married, but we're going to have a baby."

He gave her a slow smile, dismissing his anxiety as best he could.  "I hope she's happy about that."  He brushed his free hand against Emily's cheek.  "You've been glowing with joy the past two weeks.  You know that, right?"

She laughed again softly and unfastened her seatbelt.  "Come on," she said.  "Let's go share our good news with my mother."

***

They were staying at the Savannah Beach Inn, a bed and breakfast built in one of the old officers' houses from Fort Screven.  Sean had promised it would be private and comfortable, and Aaron had left the reservations up to his brother.

Spencer and Aaron were given the Captain's Quarters, which had a huge antique bed and a private entrance to the porch.  When Aaron inquired about whether his brother had arrived, the innkeeper said he had checked in and gone down to the beach.

Aaron curled his fingers around Spencer's and tugged him down to the beach, liking the way Spencer's t-shirt slipped just enough to expose his collarbone.  When they reached the sand, they took their shoes and socks off.

"Leave them there," Aaron said, feeling uncharacteristically carefree.  "No one will steal two pairs of shoes."

"If they get stolen, I'm making you carry me back to the inn," Spencer threatened, but Aaron could tell he didn't mean it.

They walked a long way up the beach, talking a little but mostly just enjoying the warm sun and the sound of the waves.  There were people around, but the beach wasn't crowded.  They got to the long pier jutting out into the Atlantic and briefly debated going out to the end, but decided they could do that tomorrow.  Just as Aaron was about to suggest they turn and go back to the inn, he saw a blond, muscular man jogging up the beach.

He knew that gait and the way the man's hair flopped as he ran.  Grinning, Aaron put his fingers in his mouth and used his taxi-summoning whistle to get Sean's attention.

Sean glanced around, saw them, and waved.  He stopped running, then paused to stretch his hamstrings for a moment.  Spencer bounced on the balls of his feet and Aaron looked down at the way Spencer's jeans were rolled up to his calves.

"Calm down," he murmured as Sean jogged over to them.

He enveloped Aaron in a sweaty, back-pounding hug, then subjected Spencer to a similar, slightly less violent, hug.

"How are you guys?  I couldn't remember what time you said your flight got in, so I decided not to wait around.  It's good to see you, Spence.  Did you get taller?  Geez, Aaron, he's taller than you."  Sean got between them and threw an arm around each of them, guiding them back up the beach.

"I'm in the Victorian Room back at the inn; the landlady said we share the porch.  I seriously need to grab a shower before we do much, but I thought we could get dinner.  I'm told there are a couple of great places here on the island if you want to eat locally, and the Breakfast Club is legendary, but we'll have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn for that tomorrow."

Aaron finally gave up on getting a word in edgewise and just grinned as Sean chattered on at them.

***

"I've been quite fascinated by your books, David," Elizabeth Prentiss said, pouring herself another cup of tea.  "It's certainly provided quite a bit of insight into Emily's career."  She smiled at her daughter.  "And I believe I understand why you had such trouble deciding if 'enjoy' was the word to use to describe your feelings about your job."

Emily laughed ruefully.  "Mm, well, what I do is a little different.  Dave got things started, while I'm standing on the shoulders of giants."

"You're being modest," Dave said, squeezing her hand.  "Emily was key in bringing several dozen civilians safely out of the Liberty Ranch compound.  They wouldn't have been saved without her; I was stuck on the outside of the compound negotiating with Cyrus."  He shrugged.  "I'm glad the books have interested you."

"Oh yes," Elizabeth said.  "The story of how you started the Behavioral Analysis Unit is a very compelling one--particularly considering the personal sacrifices you made to accomplish it.  What was it, two marriages that ended because of the job?"  She tilted her head, her gaze piercing.  Dave felt a shiver in his self-confidence, but he nodded.  He'd made mistakes, and there was no denying that.  He inclined his head slightly.

"Three, actually," he said.  He kept his gaze and voice level.  Each of those three marriages had suffered from his flaws as well as his dedication to the job, but it took two people to make a marriage work, and it took two people to let a marriage fail.  He wasn't going to take more blame than he was due.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow.  "Don't glare at me, Emily.  I have every right to worry about your well-being and the wisdom of your choices, even if I can do nothing to affect your decisions."

Dave felt Emily tense next to him, and she sucked in a breath.  "Do we have to do this, Mother?"

Elizabeth shook her head.  "I'm not criticizing, Emily," she said softly.  Her gaze caught Dave's and held, and for a moment he almost thought she looked vulnerable.  Then the moment was gone and she straightened.  "Are you happy?"

Emily curled her hand tightly around Dave's.  "Very," she said, her voice low and fervent.

"My marriage to Emily's father was a very difficult one," Elizabeth told Dave.  Her gaze was unflinching on his, and he realized suddenly that this was her approval.  "My career was hard on the marriage.  It was hard on Emily."

"Mother," Emily breathed, but Elizabeth ignored her.

"I am well aware of my short-comings as a mother," she continued.  "But so help me, David Rossi, if you screw up your marriage to my daughter, I will ruin you."

Dave cleared his throat and nodded.  "I accept those terms," he said, squeezing Emily's hand again.  She made a quiet noise, but didn't actually speak.

"Good," Elizabeth said.  "I think we'll do fine together."

Emily gave a choked laugh.  "Don't I have any say in this?" she asked.  Dave glanced over at her and saw her eyes were a little shiny with unshed tears.  Elizabeth had surprised her somehow.

"You said you were happy," Elizabeth pointed out.  "That's all the say you get unless he makes you unhappy."

Emily snorted.  "How about if he makes me pregnant?" she said, and Dave felt a shock go all the way through him.  Diplomat's daughter though she was, Emily obviously preferred bluntness to dissembling when delivering news of this magnitude.

Elizabeth stared at them, her mouth open, for a full ten seconds. Finally she managed, "Is that an announcement?"

Dave grinned as Emily started giggling.  They both nodded, and Elizabeth's mouth opened again, but again no sound came out.  He thought it was quite an accomplishment to catch a seasoned diplomat speechless.  Dave slid an arm around Emily's shoulders and squeezed gently.

"We're not making general announcements yet," Emily said when she managed to control her laughter.  "Considering my age and how early it is."

"How far along?" Elizabeth asked.  Her expression was less shocked, but her question was eager.

"Seven weeks," Emily said, her hand slipping down to cradle her stomach.  She had that lit-up quality to her expression again.  It always sent a pang through Dave, somewhere in the vicinity of his diaphragm.  He had to suck in harder to get a breath, and he started grinning.

"She's puking all the time," he informed Elizabeth.  "Not so much morning sickness as afternoon sickness and evening sickness and OhGodDaveIHateYou sickness."  He probably looked like an idiot.  Every time he thought about the fact that Emily was having his baby, he seemed to regress to the emotional intelligence of a high schooler.

Elizabeth snorted a laugh and shook her head, looking so much like Emily that he felt his grin widen.  "Don't let her fool you," she said.  "I think Emily wants to be a mother more than she wanted the BAU, and she campaigned like crazy for the BAU.  And forbade me to interfere in the slightest, I might add."

Emily gave a self-conscious laugh.  "You were really good about that," she admitted, her voice softening.

"Believe it or not, Emily Elizabeth, your achievements in life have been earned through merit," Elizabeth said.  There was a touch of asperity in her voice, and Dave had a sudden vision of what sort of grandmother she would become--stern but, he thought, loving.  He grinned at her, and she gave him an indulgent look in return.

"What are your plans?" she asked, glancing back at Emily.  "Your note wasn't terribly long on details."

Dave leaned back against the couch and smiled, letting Emily answer.  He loved how enthusiastic she got when she was talking about the wedding and the nursery and _Oh! they were going to have to find Winnie-the-Pooh wallpaper_ and _Maybe they ought to rent out her brownstone_.  He never suggested they sell it, because he thought she might still need the security of owning her own home.  But he didn't intend for her ever to need it again.

Their home was together.


End file.
